


Swallow

by Khemi



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: Cannibalism, Despite Different Species Probably, Drone Season 2016, Drugs, M/M, Mind Control, Mind/Mood Altering Substances, Non-Consensual, Porn, Sensory Deprivation, Sexual Content, Snakes, Unhealthy Kismesitude, Violence, Vore, forgive me lord for i have sinned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2016-06-22
Packaged: 2018-07-16 11:56:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7267138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khemi/pseuds/Khemi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This was definitely outside my usual comfort zone but I had a lot of fun attempting to fill it. I hope what I've managed is To Your Tastes, dear prompter, and anyone else who has come to slide down this particular serpentine gullet.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Swallow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [epochryphal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/epochryphal/gifts).



> This was definitely outside my usual comfort zone but I had a lot of fun attempting to fill it. I hope what I've managed is To Your Tastes, dear prompter, and anyone else who has come to slide down this particular serpentine gullet.

Dirk wasn’t expecting him, but that wasn’t an excuse.

The first blow caught Dirk off-guard, a slashing strike at his face that left wet lines of blood across his cheek. The second he was ready for, catching the leg that came at him and using the weight behind it against its owner to force him to the ground. When he was there on the floor, kicking up at the Prince who hid his alarm behind a deadened expression, [Dirk was horrified that the shitty pictures he’d been subjected to in his time suffering endless unsolicited jeers were enough he realised _,_ put a _name_ to the tense muscles and bared teeth that snapped at him like an animal.

“ _Calli-_ ” He started urgently, the promise he made to Roxy flaring hot in his chest, but before he could finish the monster had thrown himself up at Dirk and knocked him to the ground, his head snapping backwards and pain flashing through him at the impact, leaving him reeling.

Hands slid around his throat as the weight crushing down on him stole his breath. Cold palms and sharp claws dragged over his skin and left new slicing pain that quickly washed over with welling blood. He tried to choke out something, to force the pressure on his chest away, but for all his training and all the times he’d imagined similar situations nothing had prepared him for the simple hit of having no warning, no weapon, and not enough strength in him to move the weight of the aberration whose hands were stealing his breath, whose teeth were showing in a lipless smile.

“I expected-” The words stuttered with a hiss that he felt, hot as is washed over his face. “More of a _fight_.”

“ _Fuck you_ ,” Dirk managed to wheeze in return, and the asshole above him laughed, a halting sound where each beat was clear and sharp, verbal slaps that left him wincing.

“Only in your coming dreams.” The skull was closer now- it was a skull more than a face, jaw stretching too wide to let a dark tongue curl out and smear his own blood across his cheek. Dirk shuddered and gasped in what air he could, turning his face away from the lingering wet invasion as best he could with the vice-grip still tight around his neck. Another laugh beat out, drumming into his spinning mind. “I have _better_ plans. For _you_.”

Before he could react, one hand was in his hair, wrenching his head back hard and leaving stars flashing in front of his eyes with the bolt of pain that lanced through his mind. No, no, _no-_ He clawed at whatever he could reach, digging his nails into the toxic green flesh wherever it was bare, but it did nothing to gain him any sort of air, any sort of give which he could use to break _free._ Instead he was powerless to fight the hot breath and slinking tongue that coiled horribly against the part of his throat that had been bared. In a flash- Teeth, slicing into his skin, digging deep into his heat and leaving searing cold in their wake that spread like cracks in shattering glass through his nerves as his body shuddered and a scream found its way out of his lips despite all of his attempts to trap it within his chest.

Dirk had visions of his throat being ripped away, of his life spilling over those wicked teeth and framing that horrid smile in red. He wasn’t sure if he was relieved when instead the pain dulled to an ache and he was left gasping for breath but _alive,_ his attacker pulling back enough to simply hold him by his shoulders and watch as Dirk wheezed down glorious air, his chest swelling with the rush.

“Too coward to kill me?” Dirk shoved upwards, more out of spite than any hope it would move any inch of the heavy muscles that locked him to the ground. “Come _on,_ make it worth my time.”

“Oh. I _have_ killed you. You just don’t know it yet.” Black swept over his red teeth and cleaned them with a flick, lingering in view as the same fangs clenched into a mirthless smile. “We are going to play a _game._ ”

“If you poisoned me I’ll just come back, asshole. This sure as _hell_ isn’t a _Heroic_ way to go.”

“No. But- It is _poetic_. In the best tradition of your insipid human poets. Do you think that is enough- to make this Just? I do. But we will just have to find out. _Together_. Won’t we?”

Dirk mustered enough energy to spit up at him, grasping at his stupid red pyjamas and shaking them. Dirk could breathe now, he could _speak,_ he could- _“Calliope._ ” Nothing, and he shook harder, struggling. _“Calliope!_ ”

“I am afraid the person you are calling is _dead._ And can’t answer right now. Would you like to leave a message- for her to hear- in hell?” He leered closer. “My name- is _Caliborn._ And I will enjoy hearing you say it. Before you _die_.”

Dirk brought his hand up to slam his fist into Caliborn’s smug smile, hearing his neck crack and taking vicious satisfaction from the sound that burned heated through his blood.

“Have fun trying to _make me._ ” He grabbed both Caliborn’s cheeks and slammed his forehead up into the green stump of a nose, finally causing the monster to recoil enough he could dart out from under him and stagger backwards. “Whatever you did to me, I’m sure as _hell_ not giving you the _satisfaction_ of that pretentious b-movie villain _bullshit._ Go on, _monologue at me,_ make this pathetic attempt at evil complete.”

“You think you’re so _clever._ That you are smart. And funny. And perfect.” Caliborn dragged himself to his feet, taller than Dirk had realised in the heat of the moment and more imposing than a brat like him had any right to be. He cracked his neck one way, then the other, muscles tensing as he set his near-skeletal jaw. “You are the best of the _trash._ But still not enough to beat me. Knowing you will be happy I’ve won. When you lose once and for all. Is the greatest joke of all- And _you_ will never _get it_.”

Anger boiled under Dirk’s skin as he tried to fall into stance and stumbled instead, blinking fast and shaking his head to try to clear the feeling of fog gathering at the edges of his thoughts. He swayed, rocked on his heels, but forced himself to stay upright and defiant, refusing to break, even under a pressure he could feel surging through his bloodstream as the thoughts of whatever Caliborn could intend for him skittered around his mind like roaches. He crushed them angrily under boot before they could unsettle his steel nerves.

Steel turning molten, melting slowly. Dripping down his temples as he blinked again and felt the sweat gather on his chin before it fell.

“What did you _do?_ ”

“Nothing you will not _want_. Shortly.” The laugh in Caliborn’s voice was icy up his spine but it wasn’t enough to quell the heat, the fire that had spluttered to life in him running deeper than his fury. “You are already dead- Dirk. When it comes to killing people. Who deserve it. In all the ways they deserve to die. I am simply the best there is.”

Dirk’s ankle gave out when he tried to move one last time, one futile effort to escape the truth of it as his body ignited from within and the heat left him in heavy pants that felt warm enough to fog the air. He dragged himself backwards as Caliborn strode unevenly towards him, blocking the last of the light out with the bulk of his body and throwing Dirk into shadow that did nothing to cool his flesh. Another river came together on his forehead to trace a line down his cheek.

“Stop-” Dirk tried, but his voice was a slur, his head pounding with the effort of thinking. “Don’t-”

“Your time to argue ended before it began,” Caliborn informed him in as pleasant a tone as those harsh hisses could form. “You’ve lost. And now. You will have the honour- of a _personal_ humiliation. I would not _gift_ to anyone else.”

When the hands that had cut Dirk’s face and neck grasped him, their touch was anything but agony, fuel to the flames that drew a humiliating sound from his lips and burned across his face, a trail of shame chasing the heels of the well of pleasure. Dirk fought for consciousness, for _discomfort,_ for anything to keep him from the pink haze that laced around him and started to wind too tight for his sense to escape it; but he was falling, even as he was lifted. He was falling into the scalding depths of hell, and somewhere in the descent the heat burned through his reasons to be afraid.

= ⛎ =

Dirk woke somewhere unfamiliar, but that felt unimportant in the face of the slick heat that was consuming him from beneath his skin and tangling his mind up in thoughts that were barely his to think alone. His heavy breaths misted across his lips and through the air as his eyelids fluttered and he grasped at his own chest to ease the burn, whimpering as his damp clothes caught in the way instead.

They were- too much, too _hot,_ he couldn’t think with this _heat_ and he needed to- to-

The fabric of his shirt caught and tore beneath his arms with how hard he dragged it up and over his head, seams splitting in the frenzied struggle to free himself from the choking cloth. It pooled where he threw it, stark against the black he writhed awkwardly over in his attempt to kick his pants away. A sigh shuddered from his parted lips once he was free of it all and bare against the ground. The heat faded enough he could at least focus on himself, on trying to recollect his thoughts, and he settled to lay still but for the uneven stutter of his chest.

Memory refused to serve him, at first, the heat guttering before it started to ooze back across his clearing mind and consume the fragments of clarity he’d almost grasped, gently easing them from his fingers and smothering him in a pleasant feeling of surrender. His body ached with it; his fingers followed the pulses of pressure and warmth of their own accord, sliding over the stark cut of his muscles and the echoes of his bones as though he might catch the spark and find satisfaction in it. He needed- _something,_ needed the hollow in the pit of his stomach _filled_ and made _whole,_ needed to be able to think and breathe again-

But here, lingering on the edge of endless fire and the promise of something unnameable, the idea of waking seemed less and less necessary, less and less _wanted._ No, he wanted- He simply _wanted,_ and the want was an itch that wound pleasantly tight through his thighs, through the core of him, slipping out in a sound that might have shamed him if he were lucid enough to still understand the concept of _shame._

At last, he found he was not alone.

The presence was so vast he’d almost mistaken it for part of the blurred world that sparkled strangely around him until it swayed enough that his eyes were drawn upwards, widening as red eyes sliced through the fog like a blood-drenched blade that left no room to be ignored. Despite the dangerous shine, Dirk found no space left in himself to be afraid; his head swayed as they did, and he rolled onto his back to watch them better, struggling to keep sight of both of them as the great head between them lowered towards him and drenched his vision with a beautiful emerald glow.

Something in him wound tighter, needy, and the only thoughts he could piece together were that the serpent above him was something he wanted- _needed-_ enough that he raised a shaky hand to try and urge it closer, please, a little nearer, somehow that would be better, somehow that would feel _good,_ he _knew_ it.

Black flashed out before unseen scales slipped over one another in the shadows and filled the air with a rasp like falling rain, a chorus that sang like heaven between his ears as his reaching fingers met a jawline that shifted beneath the iridescent green, all the colours of the rainbow glowing at the edges and curves of each scale. Dirk watched them shimmer and blend, mesmerised by the patterns that spread to trace the details of each individual shape as they washed across the serpent in a lazy wave. He felt a tremble through the cool skin, a sound that vibrated out into a raspy mockery of a laugh.

“Like a child. You are too caught in the smallest things to see the danger.” Caliborn’s voice was distorted and low, a hissing edge that felt incomparable as it danced over Dirk’s mind and left delight in its wake. “You don’t even understand now. Do you? I would have liked you to understand. To know your final failure. But I will take your stupid smile and unwilling submission. And hold them dear always.”

Dirk stared up as Caliborn’s head twisted enough for one vivid eye to settle on him again, Dirk’s hand dropping slack as he stared with an awe that crept down to his bones. He felt small, powerless, _worthless_ in the face of the creature before him, but now it felt _right_ to feel that way, to accept his place was here on the floor gazing reverentially as a higher power as it laughed at him once more and rose to survey him like he was wounded prey. That felt just as right. It gave him a sense of belonging that wove deliciously in amongst the heat and left him smiling dazedly up at the one he wanted to satisfy more than he wanted to satisfy himself.

“You want to please me.” The statement was a gospel, confirmation of his revelation. “You will use your final choice to give me everything that remains of you. And you will enjoy it. This is my gift. What comes after- That is your punishment.”

“How...?” Dirk managed to find the word but it was like forcing it through oil clogging up all of his gears. “I want…”

Caliborn watched him, then swept low, head gracefully leading a ripple that shivered down his scaled back and into the endless shadow. He didn’t stay back this time, but came close, running his cold muzzle slowly up Dirk’s rib and giving a long breath that washed over Dirk’s body like cooling water and left him trembling with the brief relief from the heat that still pulsed endlessly through him with the drum of his own heart.

But the heat returned, unending and inescapable, the most heavenly torture as it ached through his form and left him wanting to fall deeper into the temptation of it in the same instant he wanted to let it all fade.

Caliborn swayed down, watching him with head hunched down against the dark ground before the tongue that seemed darker than all the shadows flickered, lingered, tasting the air and then chasing Dirk’s scent back to his trembling body, his quaking thighs. Dirk couldn’t stop the cry that shook out of him at the chill velvet embrace that slid up him, agonisingly patient; nor could he dream of containing his moan when the fork caught between his legs and the rest of it curled upwards, the breadth of the cool tongue dragging over his stomach and below with a delicious friction that struck a chord through his desires and left his own heartbeat ringing through his ears as it pounded in time with his shudders. More, _more,_ and his hips pressed up, back arching gracefully from the darkness below him. More, please, _more,_ and he whimpered as another long, lazy lick was granted to him. Then all of the pressure and relief was gone, Caliborn’s tongue flitting over his lipless smile before it vanished back behind the mocking curve of it.

“Where are your curses? Where are you insults? Have you forgotten you are meant to hate me. Until your last breath. You were so certain. And now you are broken.” Caliborn snorted air that was as cold as his eyes, and Dirk tried to pull himself closer to both. “So much for our great battle. For all your alpha ways. It seems you were always just waiting to be put in your place. And your place is grovelling in front of me. Begging to satisfy me.”

Something about the last fragment lit in his gaze, taking hold as his laugh rumbled through his coils and trembled through the floor. “Yes. That is what I want from you. You will beg. And if you are lucky. I will give you what you want.”

Dirk’s brows furrowed in confusion as he tried to remember what he _did_ want, beyond to want in itself. He thought of the heat as much as he could think of anything now, and then he thought of the only thing that had brought him any respite from the fire intent on burning his mind to nothing, his gaze dropping to the flicker of black that served as an answer and an offer. The idea of chasing it was alien, _absurd-_ and yet it took hold of his remaining consciousness and refused to let go, fangs sinking deeper into his body than the ones that had punctured his flesh and delivering a more addictive rush in their metaphorical wake.

“P-Please.” He tripped over it the first time, the syllables catching on his drunken senses as the temptation ensnared the few parts of him that almost struggled. “ _Please._ ”

“Use your words. I know you have too many of them.”

It was a conscious effort to search for them in the pink slurry behind his eyes, picking his way through fragmented thoughts and assembling the puzzle enough he could push it from his lips. “Please, I want… to be inside you.” It was all he could think about and his head was an echo-chamber, the need growing louder and louder with each repetition his own voice whispered back to him. “I want you to- to swallow me.”

“ _Perfect._ And _now_. I will complete your _humiliation_.”

Dirk was on his knees as the tongue dragged up his body again, making him quiver in anticipation with a low, shaky sigh. More, more, _more,_ he wanted it _all,_ he’d do _anything, everything, please!_

“Thank me for defeating you.”

“Th- _Thank you._ Thank you for showing me my place.”

“Thank _who?_ ”

Some part of Dirk was screaming, far down, deep and buried, but he was long beyond hearing it. He was smiling, shivering and reaching for the tongue that danced tantalisingly close to his skin, beckoning him on, and there was no hesitation before the dreamy words slipped out, easy and sweet.

“Thank you, Caliborn.”

Caliborn’s smile was wide before it stretched and split, jaws opening to leave his vast and irresistible maw open and waiting. The little light caught the stretched satin of his throat, pale and crossed with spiderweb veins that danced their way across his flesh and back to the point all of the pearly walls met together to the start of a tight, seemingly endless embrace. His fangs were gone now, tongue lolling from his jaw to trace a path backwards into the light, and Dirk felt one last tremor of fists beating against a cage deep inside himself as he watched all of Caliborn’s mouth shiver with a breath.

Then he stumbled forward, crawling onto the soft darkness of his tongue, and forgot to think of anything but finding his deserved place deep in the belly of the beast that opened eagerly up before him.

It was easy at first, and the sensation of the flesh beneath him moving softly to accommodate his weight only served to send a shudder through his body as he lost himself in the delight that came from the cool texture brushing over his skin with each unsteady slide forward, each enthralled motion towards the beckoning throat pulsing expectantly ahead. Though his tongue had been dry, as Dirk’s hands slipped beyond it Caliborn’s skin was slick and left threads that clung to his palms, tracing glistening paths behind them. A little further, a little more, and then Dirk was far enough inside that he felt Caliborn’s tongue curl behind him and the world shifted, lifted, the great mouth about him tilting back and sending him slipping unstoppably forward into cool flesh that parted around him enough his reaching arms slid within.

For a brief moment, his shoulders caught, and then there was a ripple around him as all of the muscular walls tensed and gave to a steady beat, clenching fast around his arms and dragging him deeper. He gasped, moaned- and then one final breath and the air around him was still, his head dragged into a small hollow and the rest of him swallowed into clinging softness in a ripple of pressure that shuddered through his body and sent sparks of ecstasy dancing over his skin.

He hadn’t noticed the faintest sounds, the movements of the air and his own body, until there was nothing; nothing but the pulse of a heart far larger than his own, not heard so much as felt through every inch of his body as all the world around him pounded softly with it between the unending wave of pressure that surrounded him on every side. Each time it ran across him was like a lover’s caress from endless hands, shaping and slipping across each curve ~~s~~ and line that defined him, and all sense of motion began to fade with each repetition until all that was left was the feeling of floating in smothering, icy heat, drifting through ring after ring of hands and friction even as his skin grew slick and gummed up the last few places he’d been able to move freely.

The pressure tightened. He couldn’t see anything, could no longer feel the heartbeat that had been his only companion, and it was harder to tell where his body ended and the one around him began as all merged into one blur of heat and contact and constant constricting tightness that felt like the road to his own nirvana. He was losing his mind with each breath that grew harder to take, but in the absence of thought was _heat_ and _pleasure_ and the dizzying realisation that his final offering was the only worthwhile thing his worthless life had ever given him. 

Somewhere a voice spoke his name, mocking tone dulled through layers of muscle and skin; he felt an echo of it vibrate across him as if from within, and he moaned wetly through the threads that joined his parting lips, mind filling the void of the words that followed with ghosts of a final praise.

Time became impossible to measure in the darkness, the touches that urged him forward almost enough to lull him to his peace but the heat that was burning in him too much to escape. It seemed to be outside of him now just as hot as it was in his core, skin no longer cool but _burning,_ aching at first before it lit to an honest fire and all his nerves cried out one by one as fragile skin gave beneath a fire that was methodical and tortuously slow to devour him. Lightning ran across his spine and through each fibre of his being, a single strike, another, then endless and spreading, roots digging deep into his chest and branching out to every inch of him in unending waves of crashing, crushing satisfaction.

Each attempt to breathe ached, choked him from within with his own panted excess, but it hurt like the drag of nails up his chest and his eyes rolled behind his closed lids as the burn flourished across his lips and split them like fangs rough to kiss, and stretched the cuts on his face like the claws that had left them. Rougher grasps at his shoulders, hips- They dragged him deeper into nothing, into a space that had lost all identity beyond the pleasure that filled the cracks the acid left in his skin.

_More, deeper, further, tighter-_ The words had lost meaning but the _needs_ were there in each of his fading heartbeats, his mouth splitting open to cry and filling with fire that tore his throat apart with talons of bitter fluid. He drank like a dying man given water, body shattering in every direction and a darkness that was red and heated branding itself bright across his awareness.

_More, please, anything, everything-_ There was less and less left to know, to think, his body shuddering in spasms that barely surfaced between everything binding him in place. All now was heat, and cold, and the endless shadow that wrapped perfectly to fit him, and the feeling of drifting away from himself. What scattered fragments remained of him unwound, and at the last moment he couldn’t tell what it was- the crushing grip, the burning wash, the airless gasps- that ended it. How long it had been, how far he had come, what waited for him now, the questions came like snowflakes to a forge and faded just as fast.

He was in his place, and perhaps it was Justly deserved.

But if it wasn’t- If it _wasn’t-_

Dirk didn’t have time left to wonder what would happen then, but as cold fingers just as inescapable as the body around him dragged him from his waking dream into a sleepless rest, some dim light inside him knew there was only one way he’d find out.

**Author's Note:**

> Choose your own ending! Does Dirk end up freed by the sweet embrace of death? Or is this the beginning of an endless cycle of suffering that will eventually shatter his mind as entirely as his body?
> 
> (^:
> 
> Whoooo knooooows....?


End file.
